Blessed Night
by Scarlet Secret
Summary: Constance Hardbroom is a creature one can only view at length during the night. Someone takes advantage of that fact...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: You know the drill, I don't own the merchandise.

The night was such a blessing, nobody kept up any pretence and it was much easier to see who they were.

It was a pleasure – a guilty pleasure, to indulge in what you wanted the most but knew you must deny yourself for the sake of everybody around you.

Everyone assumes Constance Hardbroom is the last to sleep at night and the first to rise in the morning, but of course this is nonsense. For if she isn't asleep you would never be able to gaze at her for so long, without her opening her mouth and using that sharp tongue on you.

You're not entirely sure if she knows how much those jibes hurt you. It is obvious that she does not say those things for her own sick pleasure but she can not now how much it hurts.

When she sleeps her face is relaxed; devoid of the expressions you know will arrive the moment she opens her eyes. But you must not be here when that happens – for if she knows you've been watching her when she is awake and sitting in the staff room she becomes angry, but watching her asleep and unguarded is strictly taboo.

In the moonlight however she is harmless, true if she were to snap awake and see you it would be ZAP and bye-bye cruel world.

You know in your heart that will not happen, you have discovered she sleeps like the dead. No rest during the day but the moment she reaches her own sanctum the walls crash down and she is just Constance.

You thought the first time you came here that she would have a spell to guard her door – but she trusts the school. This is never obvious day to day, but there is nobody in the school who is more dangerous than she – so why would she bother?

You wonder briefly if she ever had to put a spell on a door for her own protection and silently vow to bring to justice whoever it was that hurt her. Although you grudgingly admit there is little you can do.

She shifts her weight on the bed; she is now facing you and you are struck, not for the first time, how very beautiful she is.

Her dark hair frames her face that only looks paler in the moonlight. Her lips are clear of the burgundy colour you can not for the life of you find anywhere; she either makes it herself or has a secret stash.

In the day she is harsh and quite cold when you see her but in this exact moment she is peaceful and warm.

So you leave her for another night, as she doesn't, that you will be back tomorrow night.

The moonlight seems to be her only friend, but it is not the only thing that loves her.


	2. Chapter 2

You can feel the relief coming off her in waves and you realise that you have found your enemy.

Heckity Broomhead.

You do not know exactly what she did to your precious Constance; you have taken to calling her that in you head but you would not dare say it to her face.

You must find out what Broomhead did. And then what?

You don't have the power to go up against Heckity Broomhead for something you don't know about and is none of you business anyway.

But she hurt Constance.

You know that for a fact, you saw the panic in her eyes when Broomhead was expected to arrive, you saw her become even paler, you heard her voice quaver, noticed her panicked breathing and, when she thought she was alone, you saw the tears fall silently down her face.

She can never know you saw her in that moment of weakness, she would never speak to you again and that just wouldn't do.

She sighed with relief when she fell into a chair in the staff room, you saw her, but you know that you can't go in – you are not allowed to intrude.

Walking around the school aimlessly you suddenly hate all of the rules that are thrust upon you regarding Constance.

You know you can make her feel better, but you also know it is something she would take a long time considering and then probably say no at the end anyway.

On of the main rules is simple and stupid, never ask Constance questions, especially about her personal life.

However much you want to.

You want to be near her, but she won't allow close contact; you want to talk with her, but she finds you irritating.

For everything you do she counters it with regulations, some would say she's boring and has no soul, personally you think it impossible there was ever anybody with greater character or more passion in her work than Constance Hardbroom.

She is still the most magnificent person, you think so even more so after seeing her with Broomhead.

To be so strong but not to be allowed anything to make her happy – it would kill lesser people. But not her, never her.

You'll die first.


	3. Chapter 3

She nearly left today.

I don't think I could stand life at Cackles if she left, everybody else is kind, but they're just not her.

All because of Amanda Honeydew. The second the girls name was mentioned Constance remembered who she was. I wonder if she can name all of her students or is it just the troublemakers she remembers?

It wouldn't surprise me at all if she could go through every student she had ever taught and remember their test results.

But if she had left…I heard the rumours along with everybody else that Miss Cackle chased her down the corridor begging her to stay. Had I been in the Headmistress' position I think I would have got down on my knees and begged. Kissed her shoes if necessary.

Done whatever it takes to keep her here. Even if it involved doing something to Mr Hallow and his dreams of expansion. Perhaps tampering with his brakes…

What am I talking about – even I wouldn't kill somebody just for the sake of my own heart. My heart keeps telling me that Constance would be worth it, however in grand tradition my head is being practical.

Stupid head.

The important thing is she's not leaving. Since we thought she was resigning I have been holding my breath and I did not exhale again until she said the rumours were false.

If I had been alone I would have jumped for joy. I kept my eye on her during the little party that followed, she seemed happy enough – even though she could do with a dancing lesson or two – however as the students filed out I noticed her looking somewhat distant.

We all know she wants to be here but none of us can forget that she doesn't have to be. She is, in essence, a genius. She could be doing anything with her life yet she chooses to stay in a small school.

Perhaps she stayed because of the people. I dare not dream that she was staying for me.

I'm just a speck on her radar really. Insignificant.


	4. Chapter 4

You're sitting in the library trying desperately to forget what it is you almost did today and before you even turn around you know it is her behind you.

"What is it Miss Hardbroom?"

"How are you feeling now?"

"I'm fine."

You know even without looking that she has a disbelieving smirk upon her face and her eyebrows are in her hairline.

"Do you wish to discuss what happened today?"

"No."

"Will you tell me why you did it?"

"No."

"Are you su-…?"

"Miss Hardbroom, I am not a student and I would appreciate it if you didn't treat me like one."

"I know that Miss Drill but I still have to know." With a sigh she moves next to me and sits at the table.

"This wasn't just about being a witch was it? Why did you carry on? Why did you want it so much?"

"To make us even." You barely whisper that part.

"Miss Drill," she sounds oddly emotional. "Nobody in this school feels that you are beneath them just because we have an extra talent. They don't want you to change who you are."

"Not making me even with everybody, I mean that would be nice but it doesn't matter that much, to make me even with you."

"Why me in particular?"

With a slight laugh you look straight into her eyes.

"Do you really need to ask?"

She doesn't answer but a look of surprise crosses her face, and here was her thinking she was all knowing. She opens her mouth as though she is about to say something but then thinks better of it.

"It doesn't matter, you're going to the wizard academy with Miss Cackle after the weekend aren't you?"

She nods, still dumbstruck.

"Well…I do hope you…have a nice…I'll see you next week."

And with that you stand up and walk out of the library with all the dignity you can muster, hoping against hope that she will call you back.

She doesn't.


End file.
